Heretofore
by superguy
Summary: One of the most famous accounts in Wizarding History, the Boy Who Lived goes with his guardians to be fitted with the pair of thickrimmed glasses that will shape his features for the rest of his life.


HERETOFORE 

a harry potter fanfiction

_This one's for Justin. c-uNIT! I'm glad our paths have crossed again._

"Vernon, stop it. You're making a scene." Petunia Dursley muttered under her breath as she turned the page of the periodical she was perusing. Her legs crossed puritanically beneath her calf-length skirt, the woman – mother of one, guardian of two, didn't want anyone to think that there was something the matter.

Vernon, moustache bristling uneasily beneath his nose, retorted in a fit of harrumphs and disgruntled noises.

"You know he's making it up, Petunia," he said softly without glancing over at his blonde wife. Petunia made no notice and glanced up from the interesting article she was skimming about a skin product that was guaranteed to wash away the lines of age around the eyes and noticed that Dudley, her six year old son, was making a mess all over the reception room floor. Leaning forward, resting her hand on her lap, she smiled at her son while encouraging him to put away the toys he wasn't using.

"Duddykins, darling, don't throw the building blocks all over the place. Someone could trip on them."

Vernon crossed his arms.

"I still can't believe we took in that miserable boy. I knew when I saw him left on our doorstep – _literally_ no doubt! – That he was bound to be trouble. And now look. We're going to pay a heap of pounds for his ridiculous glasses!"

"Vernon…" Petunia prompted as she made notice of a rather plump woman who had entered the Vision Correction building. She had curling shoulder length hair and was wearing an odd assortment of garments, one being her hat that sat atop her bushy hair. Red – completely clashed with her garments, in Petunia's opinion. The rest of the clothing, the skirt that seemed an attempt to look at least an ounce presentable and the blouse covered by a button up vest were all neutral colors. Maroon would have gone well with her hair color. But, upon eye contact with the woman, Petunia shared a soft smile and nodded.

The woman in turn returned the smile and ushered in a boy with tight, curly hair that was also flaming red who was wearing a set of old looking spectacles that had been taped on one side where the hinge and pin would have been. The boy immediately made a beeline for the large couch against the wall where the window was and picked up a magazine, pretending to be absorbed while he waited his turn.

Stepping up to the desk, the woman spoke as if she was unsure what she was doing.

"Um…yes – yes, Weasley? Yes – that's it."

Petunia realized she was staring and abruptly looked back down at her magazine. She didn't want to look like she was snoopy or anything. Heaven forbid it.

The woman who had said her last name was "Weesle" or something like it sat down beside her son and marked the way that Petunia was crossing her legs and attempted to do the same, but having not much luck as her skirt was tight around the knees. She simply chuckled and glanced over at her bored and drawling son.

"Anything…interesting?" she asked in a hushed voice common of waiting rooms. The boy set the magazine on cars down on his lap and rolled his eyes at his mother.

"Not really," the red head said as he flipped the page snappishly. "The pictures don't move."

Petunia stopped. Had she really heard what she just thought she heard? But before she could contemplate it, the woman gave her son a slap on the leg and looked around in a paranoid manner.

"Look what we have to sit with," Vernon said as he leaned back on the mini-couch that he and his wife were sharing. "Trash…mark my words. Probably only affording good glasses off welfare."

Though she could have retorted to this, Petunia decided not to try. What good would it do to get her husband roused again?

None.

* * *

"Alright, Harry," the doctor wearing spectacles himself with enormous eyes said as he fixed his white coat and took out a pocket-sized light from his breast pocket. "You said you were having trouble seeing?"

The young boy with jet-black hair and startlingly pine-colored eyes nodded. His hair was getting rather lengthy and it hung in his eyes, covering most of his forehead. He had been completely terrified of the eye doctor ever since his cousin, Dudley, had told him that they specialized in pulling people's eyes out and turning them into necklaces which they hid in their desk drawers. Harry didn't know if these stories his cousin told him were true, but they sure were scary.

"Well then," the doctor said as he came around the front of the large chair Harry was sitting in and turned on the light with his thumb. The light was then shone into his right eye while the doctor peered into a hole set in the center of the device. Harry guessed this was so that the man could get a good look at the way his eye reacted to the light. "Let's get you a good pair of glasses, shall we?"

A series of tests was run and the man got closer and closer to seeing what Harry's vision problem was.

"So, how's school, Harry?" he asked, trying to spark idle conversation to take the boy's mind off the procedures that he was being put through.

"I don't go to school, really," the boy muttered under his breath.

"What?" the doctor said suddenly, as he looked Harry in the eyes. "You mean you just haven't started yet as all, right?"

The boy didn't reply. He seemed to be thinking very hard about something, then snapped out of it as quickly as he had started.

"Yes…that's what I meant."

"You'll like school," the doctor said as he walked over to his desk. Harry half thought that the man was going to pull out a jar of eyes, but the drawer opened and a nice shiny pen was extracted. Picking up the clipboard on his desk, the man smiled. He scribbled copious notes down in what seemed to be only a few seconds. "I loved school myself. That's where I got my degree and got to do this job."

"Oh…I'm sure I'll…I'll love it," Harry muttered.

"Good," the doctor said as he ripped off a tab from the paper he was writing on and gave it to Harry, helping him down from the enormous padded chair with the odd eye instruments all around it. "You do me something and give the lady at the desk this paper. She'll show you the glasses you can choose from, okay?"

Harry nodded and headed out of the room.

* * *

"Finally," Vernon snorted as Harry appeared out of the tiny examination room. The door had been closed to block the light from the corridor and the receptionist's station. Harry appeared timid and was carrying a slip of paper. Due to his height, he had to stretch his arm up and stand on tiptoes to get the paper onto the counter and to the receptionist who smiled.

"You all set to choose?" she asked, her deep red lipstick shining in the light.

Harry nodded, and the woman led him to a back room where rows of glasses were displayed. Many looked wonderful, and Harry wished he could wear some of the adult looking glasses, the ones with dark blue rims that sparkled and shone brilliantly. But, the woman led him to a small rack where a selection of about five different varieties of lens shapes was displayed.

"You may choose one of these," she said with a smile and returned to her station. "They should fit you."

Harry sighed. He wanted a particularly wonderful looking square pair, but those were too expensive for him.

Suddenly, a pair shone brighter than all the others did. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light cascading into the wide windows that were too tall to see out of. Maybe it was just the anxiety of the situation, but a nice round pair of glasses; dark-rimmed, appeared before Harry and he eagerly picked them up, examining them up close. He thought they looked unique. Perhaps the most unique he was going to get from that selection.

Trying them on, he saw that they fit perfectly, and the mirror showed him grinning for once in a long while. The woman at the desk returned and smiled.

"Oh, I knew you were going to pick those. They look handsome on you. Why don't you go show your parents?"

Harry shrugged; thinking the Dursleys wouldn't care if he chose the ugliest glasses in the world. But, he walked into the waiting room and showed an angry looking Uncle Vernon and a surprisingly pleased looking Aunt Petunia. He wasn't sure if this was just an act or her actual personality.

"Brush your hair out of your face!" Uncle Vernon said disgustedly and Harry felt that twinge of judgement return to his stomach. He quickly brushed his bangs aside.

The red-haired woman made an astounded sound under her breath as her eyes darted up Harry's forehead to the lightning bolt shaped scar that adorned his soft skin in a red-whine slash.

"Come on! Let's pay and get out of here, Petunia." Vernon grunted and got up, whipping his keys out of his pocket and starting out the door. Petunia was left to fetch Dudley and pay for Harry's new glasses.

"Hurry up, Duddykins. We're going to go home now," she muttered to her son who was now chucking the blocks across the room towards the window that looked all too inviting to be shattered. "Yes, can I write a check for that, please?"

Suddenly, the red-haired boy stepped out of the office, wearing a new set of glasses.

"Oh no, Percy! Not those ugly horn-rimmed ones!" the woman with the red hair groaned, standing up and hurrying over to him, attempting to persuade him into buying some new lenses.

"No, mum!" the boy, Percy said as he swatted her away. "Don't pretend to know what the fashion is now!"

Petunia quickly fetched up Dudley and ushered Harry to the door. It would take a lot of effort to get the two into the car, but she was determined to get it done. It had been a long day, after all, and the waiting room episode had been quite enough action and entertainment for one day, it seemed.

Little did they know whom they had encountered.

_finis_


End file.
